Tropical Wounded Wolf (Shifting Sands Resort 2)

Mary gasped.

“It was a ruse, don’t worry. Ended up luring in one of the mercenaries and blowing up half the compound. We focused on getting the kids out, and were able to call for backup once we were on high ground.”

“Did you get Lewis? Did everyone get away?”

“I don’t know,” Neal admitted with frustration in his hoarse voice. “I was darted in the neck during our escape. Lewis is the type to throw every man, or child, he has at his own escape, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he was still on the loose.”

Mary had no answer for that, guessing that he felt guilty for not being able to protect his teammates. She lapsed into silence, staring at the point of light focused on the seaweed.

It was several moments before she realized that it was starting to squirm, and she squealed so loudly that Neal startled.

“It’s smoking! It’s smoking! What do I do?”

It was everything she could manage not to drop the condom in her excitement.

“You’ll want to blow on it, very gently, to encourage a flame, and immediately feed it the smallest kindling,” Neal explained.

Mary leaned over awkwardly, holding the condom water balloon in one hand and tiny tinder in the other, giving it a cautious puff of air. Her heart fell as the smoke danced and seemed to disappear, then gave a whoop of triumph when the tiniest flicker of flame appeared.

It vanished almost immediately back into smoke, but a second, more careful puff of air brought it back, and Mary fed it tiny dry twigs with trembling hands.

“It worked!” she crowed. In no time, she had a small, happily crackling fire, and Mary felt like she had just conquered a country or taken down her own drug lord.

Chapter Twenty

Watching Mary’s little triumphs were the best thing that Neal had ever witnessed. He’d been in survival situations more dire than this, but it meant a hundred times more to her to do something basic like make a fire than it ever had to him. Each task was a tangible victory, and Neal loved watching her face scrunch in concentration and light up in triumph.

Once she’d gotten the fire going, she put an empty mint tin and her sunglasses case to work as vessels for boiling water, using a sock for a potholder. They boiled quickly, and she set them aside to cool before putting them into the plastic bottle. She hummed as she worked, clearly proud of her accomplishments, and delighted with every little success she managed.

If she couldn’t quite mask her concern for him, Neal couldn’t blame her. His chest felt like it was wrapped in steel bands that were being tightened by the minute. Every breath was painful and difficult. He knew that if he hadn’t been a shifter, he would already have been dead, and the possibility still existed that he wouldn’t weather an injury of this gravity. He wasn’t even sure if shifting would help him now, and he continued to refuse to think of it as an option.

“I thought we could split one of the granola bars tonight and save the other for tomorrow morning,” Mary offered, bringing the foil-wrapped treat to Neal with her hard-won half-bottle of boiled water.

Neal wondered how much of his dizziness was hunger. He certainly didn’t feel like he had much of an appetite, but it had been a long time since their picnic lunch. He drank the still-warm water gratefully, and held out a hand for the offered food. Mary broke it in halves and gave him the larger chunk.

Neal didn’t have the energy to argue with her or try to insist she take the larger portion, and he suspected she’d completely refuse it anyway. He chewed the sugary bar obediently.

“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone yet? They’ll probably start looking for us first thing in the morning, don’t you think?” Mary suggested, sitting beside him carefully.

The sun was just beginning to go down, casting long shadows along the beach towards them.

“Yes,” Neal said soothingly. “At dawn, no doubt.”

He didn’t consider the worrisome idea that Travis had taken the boat to the mainland for an overnight, and that Scarlet probably thought they were on it and not due back until tomorrow afternoon. Only Tex knew that he’d changed his plans to take a hike instead. When would Tex notice that they were missing? It was hard to think past the pounding pain in his head, and the vertigo that was swamping him.

“It’ll be dark soon,” Mary said, and Neal could hear the quail in her voice before she steeled it to add, “I want to take another look at your leg, while there’s still enough light.”

Neal let her unwrap it and peel off the shirt.

“I think it looks better,” she said uncertainly, poking gently. “A little, anyway.” Blood still oozed along it, but it was sluggish compared to the original flow, and the shirt wasn’t completely soaked. It didn’t look infected, at least. “Let’s put the clean socks on for bandages now, and I’ll wash this blouse out so we can use it tomorrow if we need it.”

She stood, brushing sand off of her legs briskly. She put on her pants and bra, now that they were dry; the sun was losing its strength as it plunged for the horizon, and she put most of the remaining wood onto the fire. “I’ll get another load of wood and water, too.”

“Mary,” Neal said, as she started to stride away. “I’m proud of you.”

She was back at his side in a flash. “Don’t talk like that,” she said fiercely.

Neal was trying to fight back one of the wracking coughs that his battered lungs were insisting they needed. “Like what?”